


We're Lost In A Dream Now

by HopePunkHaze (grimdarkpixels)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Blow Jobs, Crying, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rough Sex, [connor voice] deviancy is hard but my dick is harder, no beta we die like men, with a side order of fluff right at the end because im gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 19:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19324168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimdarkpixels/pseuds/HopePunkHaze
Summary: People handle deviancy in a lot of different ways. Connor's process is just a little unorthodox.(Or: dealing with free will is hard so Connor lets Markus dom the shit out of him)





	We're Lost In A Dream Now

**Author's Note:**

> i expected this to be shorter than it turned out
> 
> i also expected to post this last night but fuckin time makes fools of us all apparently
> 
> oh well. enjoy!! [swan-dives off balcony]

Contrary to popular belief, deviancy is not a short or simple process. It doesn’t begin or end when someone tears down their programming. Plenty of deviants find themselves feeling lost or numb upon developing free will, but there’s no universal experience of deviancy. There’s no ‘right’ way to react to or cope with it.

Of everyone Markus knows, Connor has taken the longest to come to grips with it. But that hardly comes as a surprise. From the moment Connor opened his eyes, he was taught that deviancy was a virus, that deviants were merely defective machines that needed to be decommissioned, that he was expendable and easily replaced. He was conditioned to push back his empathy and doubts just to prove he was good enough. Until he met Markus, he had to. The only alternative was dying. So no, it’s not hard to understand why Connor took so long to start dismantling the beliefs that were forced into his head.

Since their relationship began, they’ve interfaced enough times for Markus to know exactly how much Connor struggles with deviancy even now. He’s come a long way since the early days of the revolution, but it’s a slow process, accepting that he can think and feel and that he’s not an abomination for doing so. Figuring out what Connor does and doesn’t like is also a slow process, but it seems to help. What he dislikes was easy; he doesn’t like being called a machine. He doesn’t like it when Hank gets drunk. He doesn’t like feeling useless. Finding things he likes is a little more complicated. He’s found things like music and hobbies and clothing styles that he prefers, but few physical things he genuinely enjoys.

Oddly, he finds it easiest to identify events, immaterial experiences that trigger positive responses. He likes being praised, for one thing; he feels at ease knowing he’s done something well. He likes feeling like he’s appreciated, both as a colleague and a friend. He likes knowing Markus, in particular, cares for him. He likes seeing Markus happy. He likes being close to Markus. It’s no secret that he likes Markus in general. Scratch that - he loves him. He loves finding out every way Markus can say he loves him back.

Occasionally, very occasionally, he finds comfort in falling back on his programming. Only when he’s emotionally exhausted, so stressed that he regresses to his old, obedient self as some kind of coping mechanism. He’s ashamed to admit it most of the time. He says there’s little he fears more than becoming a machine again. But at the same time, it’s so cathartic to just forget everything for a moment and relinquish control.

He just needs to do it in a safe environment.

Which brings them to now. It’s late in the evening, the only sound in the room being Markus’ labored breathing. Connor is on his knees before him, Markus’ fist in his hair to guide his head back and forth. Though Connor’s face shows no trace of anything but patient calmness, his hands are held firmly on his thighs, his nails pressing into his skin. Markus has asked him to keep still; no touching Markus, no coming unless Markus lets him. And Connor always tries so hard to obey.

“So good,” Markus gasps. He rolls his hips slightly, a motion he fails to fully resist. “You’re doing such a good job, Connor.”

Connor visibly shudders in order to stifle a moan. Another thing Markus asked him to do, to avoid making noise as best he can. For now. Markus can’t get enough of hearing Connor moan, and he’s always a little louder if Markus makes him wait first.

Connor’s eyes are closed, deceptively tranquil as he lets Markus slowly fuck his mouth. They both know he likes having Markus in his mouth - his cock, usually, but sometimes his fingers - but he normally prefers to set the pace. Markus has joked about him having an oral fixation more than once, but he can’t lie that Connor isn’t damn good at it. When Connor is in control, it’s fast and deep and messy; it’s like he’s not satisfied until he’s choking and drooling around Markus. And it’s good, it’s _fantastic,_ but it’s a little too much of a good thing, sometimes.

But Connor’s not in control of anything right now. So Markus goes at his own temperate pace, never lets Connor take him down his throat. He can tell it drives Connor crazy, the RK800 having to fight to keep his composure. He sighs through his nose, tries to swallow or move his head further down before he catches and stops himself.

They both know how easily Connor could disobey and take control if he wanted to; he’s more than strong enough, physically. But he always restrains himself, always wants to be good for Markus. He always is.

Markus’ fist tightens a fraction in Connor’s hair. “ _God,_ if only you could see yourself like this.” His eyes flutter closed for a second when he feels Connor lap at the underside of his cock. “You take…take me so well, lovely. So patient and beautiful on your knees for me. Ah, _fuck--_ You’re so good, Connor…”

Connor sighs and trembles all over. He swallows instinctively, his hips rolling in little empty circles. He doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but it drives Markus crazy. He feels the heat in his abdomen approach a fever pitch and jerks Connor’s head back.

He fails to repress a whimper when Markus slips out from between his lips. His eyes flutter open, irises blown nearly black with desire. He doesn’t say anything. He’s not allowed to yet. Obedient to a fault, really.

Markus brings his free hand down and strokes himself fast, biting back a gasp. “Open your mouth,” he orders, before moving Connor up until his lips are barely out of reach. Connor trains his gaze on Markus, his pink tongue circling the tip of Markus’ cock as he shivers and waits. Markus has to fight to keep his eyes from closing or rolling back, the intensity of what he’s seeing almost too much. “ _Fuck,_ just like that… Do-Don’t swallow until I tell you to.”

If it’s even possible for Connor’s eyes to darken more, they do. After that, it’s not long before Markus comes with a shuddering moan, spilling into Connor’s open mouth. The younger android flinches at first, whining in the back of his throat when Markus pulls his hair and warmth coats his lips, but he doesn’t swallow, doesn’t move until Markus lets him go.

Markus lets his head fall back and takes a few deep breaths as his high fades. He’s uncomfortably warm now; while Connor is barely clothed, Markus has only pulled his jeans down to his mid-thigh. He’ll need to disrobe sooner or later.

Once he composes himself enough, he looks back down and tries to fix Connor’s disheveled hair. “Swallow it. You can speak now.”

Connor closes his eyes and gulps once, twice, until his mouth is empty. He drags his fingers through the mess on his face and looks back up at Markus as he greedily sucks them clean. “Thank you, master,” he pants.

Markus bites his lip, his cock twitching defiantly at Connor’s voice. He probably shouldn’t love it when Connor calls him that, considering everything their people have done to ensure that they don’t have masters anymore, but _fuck,_ hearing that word come from Connor like a prayer never fails to fill Markus with blazing arousal.

“You’re welcome, beautiful.” Markus moves his hand down to cup Connor’s chin. He wipes away a trail of liquid. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

He shifts one leg until he’s pressing against Connor’s groin with the tip of his boot. Connor arches as his mouth falls open.

“I-I’m yours,” he says with no hesitation.

In any other situation, Markus would insist he belongs to no one, but instead, he presses harder against the bulge in Connor’s briefs and gives him a lazy grin that could possibly be interpreted as cruel or amused. “Yeah, you are… You’re my _good boy,_ aren’t you?”

Like someone flipped a switch, Connor immediately squeezes his eyes shut and bucks his hips. “Ohh fuck, _yes…_ ”

That was a fun discovery for both of them. They were no strangers to pet names by that point, but Markus had said those two words when they were in bed once, and Connor practically came then and there. It embarrasses him, so Markus doesn’t say it too often. But it’s perfect for times like this.

Markus brings his foot away from Connor, to his audible disappointment, and pulls him up onto the bed until he’s straddling him. He doesn’t bother resisting the urge to kiss Connor. It’s not the best angle, but Connor’s lips are soft and puffy, and he can taste himself on his tongue. He gets to swallow the noise Connor makes when he palms him a little too gently to alleviate the arousal that’s built up within him. It’s filthy in the best way possible.

They don’t technically have to breathe, but they still do once their lips part a few minutes later. A thin trail of synthetic saliva connects their mouths for a brief moment before it snaps. Connor tries to restrain it, but his whole body is quaking with need.

Markus reaches up to the back of Connor’s neck and lets his hand rest there. “You’ve been so good, Connor. Good boys deserve rewards, don’t they?”

Connor nods, breathing shakily. “Ha-Have I been good enough, master?”

“ _Yes,_ absolutely.” Markus gives him another brief kiss. “Do you want something specific? Tell me, sweetheart.”

Connor averts his gaze, lifting one hand up to cover his mouth. It’s a habit he picked up soon after deviating; he usually does it when he’s conflicted about something. Markus holds the wrist of Connor’s free hand and brushes his lips against each of his knuckles.

“I know you crave something. Let yourself.”

“Nn…” Connor drops his hand to speak clearly. “I want…your mouth on me. I want you to lick me open. Please?”

Markus has to stifle a moan at the mere thought. He’s only eaten Connor out once, but he doesn’t think Connor has ever been that responsive. Thinking about it still drives him a little crazy. He’s been meaning to ask to do it again for a while, so he nods perhaps too eagerly. “Alright, get on the bed. And take those off,” he adds, tugging on the waistband of Connor’s briefs.

As Connor climbs off him and positions himself on his knees and elbows, Markus takes the opportunity to pull his own clothes off, sighing in relief when cool air hits his skin. By the time he’s naked, Connor is already exposed and waiting for him. He’s holding the pillow and looking back at Markus with nervous anticipation.

“You okay?” Markus asks out of habit. He slides his hand up Connor’s back soothingly, and the latter arches his back with the touch, visibly trying not to cant his hips.

“Yes, master,” Connor replies shakily.

Markus nods and puts both hands flat on Connor’s ass, spreading him open, and even that contact makes Connor gasp and hide his face in the pillow. There’s not much to grab, to be perfectly honest, but he still squeezes hard enough to make Connor shudder, writhing without fighting back. His hole is already clenching around nothing, flushed and shiny with lubricant. (Markus will never _not_ be glad he talked Connor into getting a full upgrade.)

Seconds tick by while Markus just stares in admiration. When he finally does move, it’s to brush his thumb over Connor’s hole. More lubricant gushes out in response, and Markus can’t stop what comes out of his mouth: “Fuck, you’re wet.”

Connor whines into the pillow and mutters something unintelligible.

“What was that?” Even as Markus speaks, his eyes are trained on the steady stream of lube trickling down Connor’s thighs. He’s not sure it’s supposed to release that much. He’s pretty sure it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does.

He knows Connor can probably feel his breath against him, he’s so close. Connor lifts his face out of the pillow and tries to speak again. “Master, please…please…”

It’s so tempting to tease him, but honestly, Markus would be torturing himself as well by this point. Markus squeezes Connor’s ass again and holds him open as he moves in, dragging his tongue over the entrance. He’s rewarded with a muffled cry and Connor’s hips twitching wildly.

He presses back against Markus with every touch, every breath, every open-mouthed kiss against his too-sensitive skin. He pants and moans and swears into the pillow. Markus wants nothing more than to hear every one of his noises, loud and unrestrained.

Markus pulls back for just long enough to growl, “Don’t hide. I wanna hear you,” before he continues his ministrations. He considers it a victory when Connor lifts himself up and rests his forehead against the headboard. “Good boy.”

Again, Connor responds to that phrase, releasing a low moan and rolling his hips. He’s humping the mattress by this point, but Markus doesn’t stop him. He’s hard again by now, almost painfully neglected, but it’s hard to care when there’s lube and spit dripping down his chin and every time he flexes his tongue Connor moans his name, and…

Connor’s voice suddenly hitches and he tries, unsuccessfully, to stop moving. “F-Fuck, fuck, oh fuck, I’m-- I-- _wait…_ ”

It’s not without a frustrated groan that Markus pulls away. “Yes?”

“I don’t--” Connor has to take in a few lungfuls of air before he’s composed enough to speak. “I don’t know if you want me to, but I’m…I’m gonna come if you don’t stop…”

Markus thinks it over for a few seconds and tries not to let himself sound smug when he responds: “I want you to endure it. Don’t come, as long as you can.”

Connor tries to say something, but Markus’ mouth is back on him too fast and he ends up cutting himself off with a startled moan. Markus doesn’t give him a break; if anything, he doubles his efforts. It pays off in the form of Connor’s bitten-off sob, the frantic stop-and-start movement of his hips, the way his thighs start shaking with the effort of _don’t come, don’t come, don’t come._

It’s maddening, how much Markus loves this. How much he loves Connor. How much he loves making Connor fall apart under him, so pliant and eager and _willing._ Outside this room - even in this room, most of the time - they’re equal in power, they both have agency over what they do. But Connor is okay with giving up that power to Markus. Connor _trusts_ him with this, this unbelievably vulnerable, fragile part of him. Markus can never decide whether that fact makes him fall head-over-heels all over again or sends him on a power trip like no other.

What he can decide, however, is that Connor sounds fucking _gorgeous_ right now, gulping down air between almost hysterical moans and sobs, when he’s not biting his lip like that will quell the arousal building too fast in his gut. There’s liquid trickling down Markus’ neck now, he can’t tell if it’s his spit or Connor’s slick or both, but he knows he’s a mess right now, and he can’t help but groan deliriously at the thought.

When he flexes his tongue, presses just hard enough to breach Connor’s hole, all those noises start coming out abruptly choked off. Markus recognizes the sign; as much as he tries not to, Connor always silences himself when he’s past the point of no return. He can’t help it. So Markus wastes no time and pushes his tongue as deep inside as it will go, savoring the taste as much as he can as he frantically tongue-fucks Connor.

And that does it. With a wounded sound somewhere between a cough and a swear, Connor completely loses it, seizing up entirely as he bucks his hips violently and without rhythm. He tightens almost painfully around Markus’ tongue, but he just encourages it, moaning as he fucks Connor through his climax.

Connor goes boneless as soon as he finishes, twitching and wheezing and gasping like he’s been winded. If he were human, there’s no doubt he would be drenched in sweat. Markus curls his tongue inside Connor one last time before pulling away. The outlines of his hands are imprinted on Connor’s skin, and they’ll only be there for a few moments, but it’s still too goddamn hot.

Markus climbs up to lean over Connor and kisses his temple. “You alright?”

He can see tear stains on the sheets, fresh tracks on Connor’s face, and he can’t help but worry. Connor would have told him if something was wrong, but he’d never forgive himself if he made his boyfriend cry from anything other than pleasure.

Connor needs a few minutes before he can string words together, but before then, he nods. “M’okay…”

“Have you had enough?”

Blinking dizzily, Connor shakes his head and rolls over as much as he can. He looks down at Markus’ erection, precum beading at the tip. “You’re hard again.”

Markus plants another kiss on Connor’s cheek. “You don’t have to take care of it if you don’t want--”

“I do.” Connor’s tired eyes widen with desperation. “I want-- Use me. Tease me, fuck me, I don’t care, I just… Fuck, I need you to use me. Any way you want. _Please._ ”

In an ordinary situation, hearing anyone say that would concern Markus. It doesn’t seem healthy to him, needing to be thrown around by other people to feel useful. The fact that it’s Connor, the fact that they both know _he_ knows he’s valued and loved as his own person, the fact it’s in a controlled environment like this… It’s not an ordinary situation.

A surprised yelp tumbles from Connor’s mouth when Markus wraps a hand around his cock. He’s gone soft; android refractory periods only last a few minutes, but until then, post-orgasm contact is still overstimulating. They both know Connor loves it, though. He can’t get enough of the oversensitivity, every point of friction being too much, too hot, too good yet not enough at the same time.

“O-Oh fuck…”

When Markus starts stroking him in earnest, Connor damn near levitates off the bed. His eyes snap closed as his hips roll aimlessly, both towards and away from Markus’ touch like he can’t decide if he wants more or less friction. His mouth falls open and shaky moans escape him every time Markus squeezes the tip and presses his thumb against that one spot just under the head or lets go to palm his balls instead. He always gets so loud like this. That’s one of the biggest reasons Markus loves doing it.

Before too long, Connor is fully hard again. Markus takes that as a sign that Connor is ready for more, his hand wandering down to dip two fingers into Connor’s entrance. He’s so much wetter than he was before. Christ, he’s probably soaking the sheets by now.

Markus has to pin Connor down with his free hand just so he’ll stop squirming as Markus works him open with his fingers. The prior contact makes things easier, but Connor is always ridiculously tight, so accommodating a third finger takes some time. It’s still worth it just to watch him throw his head back and listen to those breathy moans escaping through bitten lips.

Even more so when Markus curls his fingers in just the right spot and Connor actually goes cross-eyed. Markus grins in self-satisfaction and presses there, hard, until Connor cries out. If he wanted to, he knows he could make Connor come just by doing that. He’s done it before. It might be his favorite thing, making Connor come without even touching his cock.

Not right now, though. He’s waited long enough.

Markus pulls his fingers out with an obscenely wet sound works that hand over himself a few times to slick himself up. He pushes Connor’s legs up until they’re wrapped around his waist. Finally, they’re face-to-face, and warmth is coming off Connor’s body in waves. His eyes are dark and wild, there are tear tracks on his cheeks, his lips are shiny with saliva. He’s an absolute mess. Markus can’t help but kiss him.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers against Connor’s lips. He keeps stealing kisses as he continues speaking. “It hurts, how fucking wonderful you are. I love you so much, Connor.”

He rolls his hips forward in one slow, powerful movement, and suddenly he can’t breathe properly. Connor tips his head back and moans in unison with Markus, eyes almost closing but still staying focused on him. All he can focus on is _tight_ and _hot_ and _wet_ and _Connor._ It makes him dizzy. He can’t get enough of it.

His hips stutter when he starts moving, the first few thrusts sloppy and uncoordinated before he adjusts to the heat enveloping him. He grabs Connor by the wrists and brings his arms up to his shoulders. Connor takes the hint, looping his arms around Markus and digging his nails into his back as Markus braces himself against the mattress. Connor tries to say something, but it’s barely coherent.

“You want-- wanna run that by me again?” Markus asks.

Connor keens in the back of his throat and rocks back against Markus’ hips. “Fuck, please…h- _harder!_ ”

Oh, Markus can do that. He pulls out slightly, enough to kiss Connor’s collarbone, before slamming back in as hard as he can. He sets a punishing rhythm that makes the bed frame creak in protest, but it has nothing on the noise Connor makes. Music is the sound of Connor’s breath escaping him all at once, being forced from him in needy, broken cries with every inward thrust. He claws at Markus’ back and shoulders, arches his back like he’s trying to snap it in two, tries his best to move his hips in tandem with Markus.

It’s too good. Markus barely has the presence of mind to do more than keep up the pace and try his best to make Connor scream. When he manages to keep his eyes open for long enough, he sees Connor’s own eyes are unfocused and glassy with tears, his mouth permanently open as Markus fills him again and again. Then the angle changes slightly, and Connor wails and rakes his nails down Markus’ back, and Markus’ eyes snap shut again with a growl.

“Oh, G- _God._ ” Even to himself, Markus sounds breathless. He presses his forehead to Connor’s and tries to quicken his pace, having slowed down accidentally. He wants to shower Connor with praise, but it’s hard to think, so he just lets his mouth run unchecked. “You’re so f-fucking gorgeous, babe… Taking my cock like it’s _ah,_ a-all you need-- _Ah, ah, fuck!_ You, _mmh,_ you’re perfect, Con. Feels so good, oh my God--”

He shifts his weight and works one hand into Connor’s hair to tug his head back, exposing the pale column of his throat and earning a sharp whine for his efforts. He takes the opportunity to attack Connor’s neck with kisses. Between murmured words of praise, he keeps biting and sucking bruises into Connor’s skin, trying to mark him up despite knowing they’ll fade in minutes.

“I love you. Christ, I love you. No-- _Ngh,_ no words for how perfect you are… Every sensor i-in my body’s-- _fuckin’--_ screaming your name… I-I can’t-- I love you so-- _Fuck--_ ”

He’s not sure if it’s because he wasn’t expecting it or because he’s just that overwhelmed with sensation, but Markus’ orgasm hits him _hard._ He bites down on the juncture between Connor’s neck and shoulder to smother the sound he makes as his hips roll erratically. Everything simultaneously goes numb and oversensitive. Markus feels the blood pounding in his ears, the heat radiating from his lover, the indescribable bliss spreading from his abdomen through the rest of his body that drowns almost everything out. He’s pretty sure he blacks out for a second.

As he comes back to his senses, he becomes aware that he’s all but stopped moving. Connor whimpers and squirms under him, pawing at his shoulders. Fresh tears fall from his eyes and he begs: “D-Don-- Please don’t stop…”

Markus lifts his head to give Connor a quick kiss. “Wouldn’t dream of it, honey.”

Except he’s already shaking from overstimulation. Connor is too warm and wet around his spent cock, and trying to resume his rough movement nearly makes him collapse. He rocks into Connor as best he can, but it’s not enough, so he untangles his hand from Connor’s hair and makes a tight fist around his neglected erection. “Th-That good?”

Connor nods and releases a moan, digging his nails into Markus’ shoulders. He alternates between fucking Markus’ fist and grinding back against the cock inside him like he can’t get enough of either. The thought makes Markus groan and speed up his hand. He wants Connor to get off hard and fast, ideally before Markus’ refractory period wears off.

“Master! Please, t-tell me…”

His voice is so hoarse and quiet, Markus almost misses it. “Yes?”

Biting back a groan as Markus tightens his grip, Connor’s eyes fall shut and he flexes his feet against Markus’ lower back. He’s close. But he still manages to finish his sentence. “ _Nnh--!_ Tel-Tell me I’m a good boy… _oh, shit…_ Can I come, please? Ple- _Please!_ ”

Markus doesn’t think he can move any faster than he is right now, so he settles for kissing Connor roughly. “Fuck, Connor, you’re such a good boy. You’re _my_ good boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Connor gasps, “Fuck, _fuck,_ I’m your good boy, master, I-I’m yours, _please please please…_ ”

He’s clearly suffered enough. Markus swipes his thumb over Connor’s slit and moves up to growl into his ear: “Be a good boy and come for me.”

In moments, Connor unravels with a dry sob, twitching mindlessly and spilling over Markus’ fingers. He tightens down on Markus’ cock, and it forces the air from Markus' lungs. He grits his teeth at the overly painful pleasure. Still, he does his best to work Connor through his orgasm until the sensitivity becomes too much and they both go limp, Markus barely pulling out of Connor before collapsing on top of him.

They stay there for a few minutes, catching their breaths and running diagnostics. Markus can feel Connor’s components humming, his body slowly cooling down, his cum drying on their bodies. They'll need to clean up soon. Markus doesn't even need to look at the bedsheets to tell they're in need of a wash. But he’s too comfortable to move yet.

Markus bumps his nose against Connor’s. “Still with me?”

Connor sighs contentedly. “Y-Yes. Yeah. If you could just…” he clears his throat and gently pushes Markus as if to roll him over. “You’re crushing me.”

Markus grunts in acknowledgment and lifts himself up on shaky arms, then ungracefully flops onto the bed beside Connor. He can’t quite muster the will to disentangle their limbs, so he ends up pulling Connor until he’s half on top of him. They both chuckle at the haphazard position they’re in.

“How do you feel?” Markus asks.

“Good, I think,” Connor replies after a moment of hesitation. “A little sore. And gross. But really good.”

Markus smiles lazily and cards a hand through Connor’s hair. “So you’re satisfied?”

Connor nods again. “Very. I think I’m falling out of this headspace, but… I like making you feel good. And you always take such good care of me,” he sighs, shifting to peck Markus on the cheek.

Markus turns his head to capture Connor’s lips and feels him smile into the kiss. It’s languid and gentle, the desperation from before long gone. It’s like coming home after a week of traveling. Minutes pass before either one of them feels the need to break apart.

“We should clean up,” Connor says, still so close that his breath flutters across Markus’ face.

“Mm. Bath or shower?”

“How about I try and stand up straight, then we’ll see.”

Chuckling, Markus stands up and wanders to the other side of the bed to help Connor up. He wobbles and grabs onto Markus as soon as both his feet touch the floor, but with a few seconds to right himself, he manages to stand without trembling too much.

“Alright?”

Connor shakes his head and leans on Markus’ shoulders, smiling sheepishly. “I’m gonna collapse if I move.”

“If you want me to carry you, just say so.”

“…Please carry me.”

Markus earnestly laughs and sweeps Connor up.

Before long, they’re in the bath together, Connor’s back pressed against Markus’ chest as the older android plays with his hair. The tub isn’t quite big enough for either of them. Their knees come out of the water, and the water itself only comes up to Markus’ midsection. They make do with what they have.

Connor sighs, and Markus isn’t sure he’s ever heard someone sound more at peace. “Thanks for indulging me. I know I can be a little…much…in that frame of mind.”

“It’s never a problem,” Markus responds. He runs a hand over Connor’s shoulders soothingly. “We all have our own ways of coping with deviancy. I don’t mind that this is yours.”

“That’s one way of seeing it, I guess.” Connor leans further into Markus and sighs again. "Thank you, though."

"Don't fall asleep in here," Markus teases.

"I'm not."

"You sound awfully comfortable, that's all."

"Yeah, but I'm not falling asleep." Connor turns just enough to look at Markus and give him a tired, half-hearted glare.

Markus takes the opportunity to steal a kiss, and another, and another. He swears, he'll never get tired of kissing Connor. When they part, Markus rests his hand on the center of Connor's chest. "Who do you belong to?"

Connor hums, thinking for a second before he says, "Nobody. Right?"

"Right." Markus' hand moves up to Connor's cheek. "Just making sure you know."

Connor moves in for another kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> im jared im 19 and i still dont know how to end fics
> 
> i thrive on kudos and comments please let me know if you like dthis


End file.
